


The Ocean is Blue and the Sky is Too

by Wellrounded



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Affairs, Angst, Anxiety, Canon Era, Mental Health Issues, Miscarriage, Postpartum Depression, Sex, The Reynolds Pamphlet, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wellrounded/pseuds/Wellrounded
Summary: In the aftermath of a miscarriage, the Reynolds Pamphlet, a sick son, and a new baby, Eliza struggles to stay afloat.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

It had begun the moment she assumed she could be pregnant - an apprehension that held onto her differently than it did the other times. Whilst every pregnancy had brought anxiety, it had been tolerable, seeing it more in her husband’s eyes or in the words in his letters, than she felt it herself.

 

But this time it was more intense, holding onto her heart like a vice that would not let go.

 

She had waited to tell Alexander this time, wanting to be completely sure. But this was her seventh pregnancy and she was his wife, he knew her body and the signs by now.

 

He paused one night as he kissed her breasts. They seemed fuller - he had noticed it a few weeks ago but dismissed the thought, because surely she would have told him. But as he took her nipple into his mouth and she gasped in pain, not pleasure, he stopped. She only ever did that when…

 

“Eliza?” he questioned. Waiting for her her to confirm his thoughts.

 

“Are you?” he continued, his eyes glancing down to her stomach.

 

She nodded, biting her lip as a tear fell down her right cheek, “It appears so.”

 

A sob fell out of her husband’s mouth and he fell on top of her, wrapping his arms around her waist, his head burrowing into the crook of her neck.

 

“Oh, Eliza.” he sighed.

 

She was fully crying now too, holding onto her husband with the same intensity.

 

“My love,” he pulled back stroking her cheeks and leaning down to place a reassuring kiss on her forehead, “All will be well this time.”

 

She shook her head then, because how could he tell. They didn’t get to control these things. They knew that all to well after the last pregnancy. They had been naïve, they knew there were risks with every pregnancy, but they had already had five pregnancies, and even when Eliza had been unwell with them, she had always pulled through. It had lured them into a false sense of security that made the fall much harder when the inconceivable actually did happen.

 

Alexander had been out of town and blamed himself.

 

Back at home Eliza felt she was to blame. Her body had failed her. She hadn’t been as strong as she should have been, as she _had_ been with the other children.

 

Alexander came home, holding her close and resigning as Secretary of the Treasury.

 

He had proposed the subject of having another child a year later. Little John was out of his infant stage and Alexander longed for another babe to dote on.

 

At first, Eliza had been reluctant, not knowing whether she could trust her body to get her through another pregnancy. So he had been patient with her, pulling out and releasing himself on her stomach on the days of the month they knew she was most susceptible to conceiving.

 

Until one day, when Eliza was riding him mercifully, he knew it was that time of month and patted her thighs as a warning, “Eliza!” he yelped, trying to be as coherent as possible in the midst of his pleasure.

 

Eliza didn’t yield, instead rocking her hips harder against him, throwing her head back and gasping something that sounded somewhat like his name.

 

“Liza… I…” he panted, frantically placing his hands on her hips in an attempt to slow her movements.

 

“Shush.” she whispered, bringing her lips down to his to quieten him.

 

He moaned against them before pulling back to gasp for air. He went to say something, tried to communicate his impending predicament, but Eliza pulled on his hair and rendered him speechless.

 

All he could do was look at her in the eye, pleading with her to understand. The wild look she saw in his made her smile and he groaned, because he was trying so hard to hold off and everything she was doing was counteracting his attempt.

 

“It’s okay.” She told him, placing a kiss on his nose.

 

He went crossed eyed as he watched her do so, and she giggled.

 

“Eliza?” he breathed, needing to know this _was_ okay, that it wasn’t a game she was playing.

 

She could sense this and nodded her head, easing her movements slightly to lean down and whisper into his ear.

 

“You can come inside me.”

 

He growled in response, holding onto her hips tighter as she began to move faster again, lifting his own hips up to meet hers every time. It didn’t take long for them to reach their peak, Alexander only just managing to hold off until he felt Eliza’s walls flutter around him, following her seconds later.

 

She fell on top of him in a sweaty heap, and he showered the top of her head in kisses.

 

“Are you sure that was okay?” he questioned after their breathing had somewhat steadied, hoping it wouldn’t be something she’d later regret.

 

“I’m sure.” She had sighed, nuzzling her head into his clammy chest.

 

It had taken a few more months to conceive, and whilst she was happy, didn’t regret her decision, she was also terrified. Anxiety would stem its head daily, not letting her relax and enjoy the pregnancy in the way she had previously. She tried to hide it from Alexander, played it off as normal pregnancy nerves, but she could see it in his eyes too. See the panic appear if she were to wince in pain, or seem unnaturally exhausted. Some days he was needy, wanting to be around her 24/7, and she allowed it, because she understood it. Nonetheless, as the pregnancy carried on and she grew bigger his anxiety somewhat subsided, whilst hers only festered.

 

* * *

 

It intensified the day she was sat in the parlour and he first approached her about the Pamphlet.

 

“Can you come to my office?” He had asked.

 

She looked up, a smile gracing her features, “Is your hand cramping?”

 

He had coughed awkwardly and Eliza frowned. She had expected him to ask her to transcribe for him, something that had been common throughout their marriage, but when he walked her to the office, closing the door and telling her to take a seat she felt her hands tingle in hesitation.

 

“What is it?” she asked, not taking the seat he had pulled out for her.

 

And so he told her how his immoralities of the past had come to light again, about how he needed to clear his name once and for all. He couldn’t have them holding this over him any longer. And so he presented her with the first draft of what he called the Reynolds Pamphlet, and watched her reverently as she read it over.

 

It wasn’t new information to her - he had shared his wrongdoings with her many years ago - yet that didn’t make it any easier to see it written down in black and white.

 

When she had finished she handed it back to him her eyes focussed on his.

 

“Say something.” He begged.

 

“What is it you want to hear?” she had asked.

 

“That you will allow me to publish this. To allow me to clear my name.”

 

She wanted to scream at him, what about her name, their children’s name?

 

Instead she calmly said, “That is your choice to make.”

 

“My love, you know I cannot publish this without having your blessing first. Maybe you’d like to help me edit it, make sure it’s to your satisfactory?” he offered.

 

She had scoffed then and he abruptly closed him mouth.

 

“You wont allow it?” he asked, and she could hear the pain in his voice. Hear how much he honestly felt he needed to do this, how blinded he was by his political legacy than he forgot about his family’s.

 

“I will allow you to do what you think is right” she had replied. Standing up and patting down her dress.

 

“Sometimes my idea of what is right is faltered.” He admitted, stopping her in her tracks.

 

She turned around, looking him in the eye, “I know.”

 

She hadn’t cried when she left and crawled under the bed covers. She couldn’t quite place what she was feeling, other than an ominous feeling in the pit of her stomach. Because she knew what he would do, knew the choice he would make. She placed her hand on her stomach, wondering whether her child could sense her trepidation, the feeling settling in the spot where she knew her child lay.

 

* * *

 

William Stephen Hamilton was born on August 4th, in the middle of a summer storm. Alexander had rushed home to be by her side but had been delayed due to the weather and arrived to find his boy already 6 hours old.

 

He quickly scooped him up in his arms and placed a sloppy kiss on his wife’s cheek, before cooing to the infant.

 

“Hello, Son.” He gave a watery smile to the child before looking up to Eliza, “What is his name, love?”

 

Her eyes were closed and she looked exhausted, not the normal physical tiredness she would experience after such experiences, no, she looked emotionally drained and he swallowed guiltily.

 

“He hasn’t got one yet.” She told him, her eyes still closed.

 

“Well, what do you have in mind?” he questions, thinking she had wanted to wait to confer it with him.

 

“I don’t.”

 

He looked at her, willing her to open her eyes and look at their son.

 

“Betsey?” he questioned.

 

She did as he wished opening her eyes and let out a breath, “You can choose.” She told him, feebly lifting her hand up to pat him on the arm.

 

“Why don’t we wait until you’ve recovered and caught up on some sleep?” he offered. He knew she had names in mind. They’d gone over a couple before he had left and she had been vocal in the ones she did and did not like.

 

Her eyes fell to their son, her face scrunching up in anguish, tears spilling out of the corner of her eyes.

 

“Betsey, my angel, what is it?” he asked, rushing to sit beside her in the bed.

 

She stayed quiet as more tears streamed down her face. Alexander tried to wipe them away but she pushed against his arm, wiping them herself.

 

“What if he gets sick?” her quiet voice cracked through the silence. “What if I can’t protect him?”

 

These were fears that had been niggling away at her throughout the whole pregnancy. First it was what if she got sick, what if she couldn’t provide the baby inside her with the nutrients he needed, what if her body failed her again. But as his due date approached she was flooded with a set of new fears. What if he is born and she still can’t protect him. It had happened to many of her siblings growing up, to two of Peggy’s babes and one of Angelica’s. What if it would happen to hers? The rest of their children were older now, had grown out of the phase where a simple fever could result in the way it did for her unfortunate siblings and niece and nephews.

 

“We will do whatever we can to protect him, my love. The rest is in the hands of your beloved God.” Alexander told her, knowing better than to dismiss her fears by trying to tell her it would be okay. He knew more than anyone that death is not something that can be controlled.

 

She sniffed, nodding her head and leaning into her husband’s side, looking at the little bundle in his arms.

 

“William.” She told him, drying her tears on the shoulder of his shirt.

 

“William?” He repeated, a smile on his lips.

 

“After your uncle.” She confirmed.

 

“It’s perfect.” He leant down, placing a kiss on the top of her head before lifting the baby up in his arms so he could do the same to him, “Hello, William” he cooed. “You are going to be a good, strong boy aren’t you” he continued, feeling Eliza’s weight get heavier on his side and she fell into a much required sleep.

 

* * *

 

He had courteously waited until William had been born before publicly sharing the Pamphlet. She had been taking a walk with three-week-old William and 5-year-old John, when the first signs of it being in the public domain hit her. William was a colicky baby and she had needed to get out of the house if only to stop the sound of his cries rebounding off the walls.

 

She knew the Pamphlet had been released, yet it still surprised her when she felt everyone’s eyes on her. Had it really got around that quickly, been that widely discussed? She tried to keep her head up, to keep her steps firm and steady, but she felt that she was drowning within all the glances of pity. She heard whispers of “poor woman” and “in his marital bed” and she felt like someone was putting pressure on her windpipe, restricting its usage of air. William started crying again and she cursed under her breath; could she not get a moment’s peace from him?

 

She noticed more people staring at her thanks to his whimpering, heard someone say, “That must be their poor baby, only born a few weeks ago.” And she felt like screaming at them, telling them it was none of their business. Yet it was, because her husband had made it their business, he had shared it for anyone and everyone to see.

 

“Mama?” John had asked when he noticed his Mother had stopped walking, her hand tight around his.

 

She looked down at him, his eyes looking back at her so innocently, so void of the pity she was seeing in everyone else’s that it quietened her impending anxiety attack.

 

“Come, my sweet boy, let’s head home.” She told him, turning on the spot and escaping the glances.

 

Later that night, as she closed her eyes trying to find sleep, she was haunted by their eyes. The looks of pity, sympathy, shame and amusement staring back at her. As if her family’s misfortune was a means of entertainment. Never before had a marital affair been so public, and the gossips only fed off it.

 

She had expected some sort of response from the public, but this was much bigger than she ever imagined. Even her dear sister looked at her with a pained expression, fighting back the urge to say, “I told you so”.

 

Her stomach clenched as she imagined Maria, lying where she was, on her side of the bed. She wondered what the girl is doing with her life now. It’s been six years since she had been let into their bed, and five years since Eliza found out about it. Maria only lived a block away. Eliza used to wonder whether she had walked past her on her way to town. Had Maria ever seen her out and about, knowing that she was the wife of the man she was fucking? No, she corrects herself; it was Alexander doing the fucking. Maria was just a helpless girl who got stuck in the crossfire. She had come to him for help, and he had taken advantage. She feels sick thinking about how Maria felt the only way to repay Alexander for his help was through sex. He should have known better, he should have been more respectful. He should have remembered about his family and his wife.

 

Eliza clenches her fists, she knew who she married. Knew that her Alexander was a sucker for vulnerable women. And when Alexander had told her of his depravities those years ago, she had forgiven him. It took time, but she had gotten there.

 

So she feels stupid now, to have been naïve enough to think that it was in the past, that they would be able to move on as easily as they had.

 

To think her _damn_ husband could keep their private business private.

 

That's what hurts the most. Not the actual affair, but the fact that after all these years it was being published to the world. The fact that her husbands pride was more important to him than his family.

 

Did he not realise how this would affect them? How their children might feel seeing the pamphlet in the public, finding out exactly what he was up to that summer as they were visiting their grandparents with their mother.

 

The feelings she thought she was long over were brewing up again, overwhelming her senses, her heart banging in her chest as if it wanted to escape her completely.

 

So, when Alexander came to join her in bed she sat up, and held out a hand to keep him at a distance.

 

“You should sleep in your office tonight.”

 

He blanched, paused mid movement, “Eliza, I…”

 

“Please.” she demanded, “I need you to sleep in the office.”

 

Alexander took a step back, confused. He thought she was okay with the publication. Thought his wife had forgiven him for his awful mistake.

 

“You said I could publish it.” He tells her, sounding desperate.

 

“Did I?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“Yes!” He quickly answers, although he sounds unsure of himself, “You said…”

 

“I said to do what you thought was right.” She reminds him.

 

“Yes, and I… Oh…” He pauses.

 

“You chose your political name over your family’s name.” She tells him and it finally dawns on him.

 

“Betsey, please…”

 

“There are fresh sheets in the laundry room.” She tells him, passing him his pillow.

 

He looks down at it, takes it from her in defeat, “How long for?”

 

“I don’t know.” She tells him, honestly.

 

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 

Eliza closes her eyes tighter, trying to block out the screeching coming from the corner of the room. She had given up putting her hands over her ears, the infant’s cries so loud the sound reverberated through them.

 

She knew she should get up, knew it wasn’t fair to leave him in distress, but she was so exhausted, her body failed to cooperate, weighed down by an impending melancholy that had taken over her.

 

In the past, she would be up out of bed within seconds of hearing her child’s cry, that is, if Alexander hadn’t beaten her too it. But Alexander wasn’t here right now. No, he was down the hallway in his office, where she had sent him. She knew he would be able to hear little William from there, but Alexander hadn’t set foot in their bedroom since she told him of his knew sleeping arrangements.

 

She would find him at times leaning against the door frame, watching William asleep from afar, too frightened to cross the threshold as if doing so would shake their world even further apart.

 

With the other children he would have been in there with them, leaning over their cot, lifting them out to sooth them. Many times in the past she had gone looking for him in his office only to find him in their bedroom, cradling the new-born in his arms.

 

Yet, with William he would only dare hold him if he were downstairs and Eliza was out of the room. The times he would find his son crying and Eliza nowhere to be seen. Sometimes she would take William downstairs and leave him, just to get a break. She knew it was an awful thing to do, but there was enough help around that she knew he’d soon be seen too. And usually, it only took a minute or two before she’d hear Alexander’s office door open and the subtle sounds of him comforting the child.

 

William’s cries grow louder and she sighs wondering for a split second whether his sounds would still reach her if she were to shut him in the cupboard. Disgusted with such a thought she shakes herself, forcing her legs up and walks over to the crib.

 

* * *

 

A couple of days later she experienced a new blow to her heart. She had tried so carefully to keep the news of the Pamphlet away from the children. She couldn’t bare the thought of them knowing what their father had done, but it was in the public domain, and deep down she had known it would only be a matter of time.

 

Philip had come home with a rage in his eyes similar to his fathers. Eliza had tried to ask him what was wrong but he shook her off, blaming it on getting an "unfair" grade on his recent English paper. Eliza knew that was unlikely to be the cause and was proved right when she went through his school bag later that evening after changing his bed sheets.

 

She found his English paper, with his usual top grade mark. But as she went to place it back she noticed the manila coloured pages and her head swam. She knew straight away what it was. The Reynolds Pamphlet. Except it wasn't just one pamphlet - there were five. Her chest heaved as she held them in her hands, wondering how they came to be in her son’s possession.

 

"Mama, what are you doing?" Young Angelica's voice came from Philip’s door. She walked closer noticing the pamphlet in her mother’s hand and her eyes fell to the floor.

 

"Someone was handing them out at school, Philip thinks he managed to get hold of most of the copies going around." She explains.

 

"Right." Eliza whispered, not feeling able to say much else. She wanted to say sorry, to apologise for his wrongdoings, but she knew she wasn't to blame. No one did this except for him.

 

So she had grabbed the pamphlets, kissed her daughter on the cheek as she walked past her, and stormed into Alexander's office.

 

He looked up, startled. His wife rarely came to him anymore. His mouth dried as she slammed the multiple pamphlets on top of the paper he was writing, smudging the ink.

 

"Was it worth it?" She asked before storming back out, a rush of air the only indicator that she hadn’t been a fragment of his imagination.

 

He had been confused, unsure as to where the multiple pamphlets had come from. Had she been collecting them?

 

He started to have an idea when he sat down at the dinner table later that evening, finding his older children unable to look him in the eye. Philip had only stayed at the table for 5 minutes, leaving his plate almost full as he asked to be excused. 

 

"You may" Eliza granted.

 

"Philip?" Alexander asked in concern as his son stood up. Philip never left the table without finishing his food. It was an on-going joke within the family that he ate more than his Mama and Papa together.

 

But Philip ignored his father, exiting the room.

 

Alexander looked at Eliza, noticing her lips in a tight line as she looked over at Angelica who was pushing her food around her plate.

 

“Angelica, my love?” He asked.

 

Her eyes snapped up to her fathers, sharp and aware, like her namesakes, and she held his gaze, daring him to explain himself.

 

When he said nothing, she sighed.

 

“Mama, may I be excused too?”

 

“Yes, love.” Eliza replied picking up their plates with her own hardly eaten one. She scrapped the leftovers into the bin, something she knew Alexander hated, and set the now empty plates on the side.

 

“Is something the matter?” 11-year-old Alexander Junior enquired, sensing the odd behaviour.

                 

Eliza chewed her lip, holding back the tears that were threatening to fall. She couldn’t bear for another of her children to look at Alexander the way the older two had, or hadn’t in Philip’s case. They used to look up at him like he was the best person in the world, and now they could barely send a glance in his direction.

 

“There is an illness going around.” She tries to placate her son’s concern, before turning to her husband, “I will be keeping them off school tomorrow.” She informs him.

 

Alexander nods, the situation dawning on him as he watches his wife leave the room.

 

* * *

 

A few weeks later, there really is an illness going around and Philip is the one to get hit hardest.

 

Alexander is out of town working and Eliza’s trying to settle a whining William at the breakfast table when Philip stumbles in, holding onto the doorframe to stop himself from tumbling to the ground.

 

“Philip!” Eliza gets up, passing William to her Sister who had joined them in her husband’s absence, before rushing over to her eldest.

 

One glance at him and she knew he was unwell.

 

Placing the back of her hand to his forehead she winced, “You’re running a fever, let’s get you back into bed”

 

It escalates quickly. The doctor is called and Eliza keeps a vigil at Philip’s side. She can hear William wailing in the background but she can’t bring herself to go to him.

 

Angelica comes in, William in her arms and suggests they swap positions for a moment, for there’s only so long she can trick the baby into latching onto her finger instead of his mother’s nipple.

 

Eliza tries to disregard her sister, telling her William can wait, but Angelica ignores her, coming closer.

 

“He needs to be fed, my dear Sister” she attempts to hand William to her and Eliza all but freaks out, standing up and pushing him away.

 

“Don’t bring him too close, what if he catches it?” She reprimands.

 

“Eliza!” Angelica’s voice is stern, yet there is concern in her eyes.

 

Eliza looks back at her Sister, feeling small and childlike.

 

“Your son needs to be fed, he is losing his fatness, and you know how important it is for babies to keep it.” Angelica tells her.

 

Eliza nods, because she does know. She had always been complimented on the chubbiness of her babies in the past, feeling proud as people stated how healthy and well they looked. When she looks at William she knows he’s smaller than his siblings were at that age, and she knows he will be more likely to catch illnesses because of it.

 

A surge of guilt hits her, and she feels her eyes welling up.

 

“I know.” She agrees, taking the boy out of her sister’s arms.

 

Angelica watches as Eliza sits back down in the chair next to Philip’s bed and begins to feed the baby, not content until she sees the child latch on.

 

When the child settles and feeds hungrily from his mother Angelica speaks up.

 

“Maybe I could find you a wet nurse?” she offers.

 

Eliza’s head snaps to face her sister.

 

“You’re exhausted love, maybe having some help will allow you some well needed rest.” She explains.

 

“No.” Eliza shakes her head. “I can do this.”

 

“Of course you can. But if you change your mind, or want additional help, just ask.” Angelica tells her, stroking her sister’s hair gently.

 

“I just want Philip to get better” Eliza sighed, her eyes focused back on his sleeping form.

 

“I know.”

 

“And I wish…” Eliza pauses.

 

“That Hamilton was here?” Angelica offers, reading her sister perfectly.

 

Eliza nods, “He’s always so good when the children are sick. I know the Doctor is more than qualified, but there’s no one I trust more with my children’s health than their father.”

 

Angelica understands, she used to mock Alexander for the lengthily letters he would write Eliza whenever the children were unwell and he were away, acting as if he were more informed on medicine that the Doctors. However, she had experienced his care when her own children were sick and couldn’t fault the attention and love he bestowed on them in his venture to make them better.

 

“Have you informed him of the situation?” Angelica inquires.

 

Eliza nods, picking up the letter she had received from him with instructions of giving Philip a cool bath, passing it to her sister.

 

“He will be back soon.” Angelica tells her.

 

He’s not back soon enough for Eliza’s liking. Philip’s condition worsens and she’s crippled with the fear that every breath will be his last. She doesn’t sleep for days, doesn’t wash or eat, she only leaves the room when she needs to use the bathroom or see to the other children. She stays by his side, praying that today will not be his last.

 

* * *

 

A few days later his fever breaks and he finally appears on the mend. Angelica manages to convince her Sister to wash and eat dinner with the rest of the family. She’s so enthralled with such a feat that she doesn’t notice Eliza creeping into Philip’s room at night, not satisfied to sleep in fear of him experiencing a relapse.

 

* * *

 

 

Philip is still recovering when Alexander comes back and she feels unreasonably angry with him. What if Philip had died and he hadn’t been there? What if he was too busy with his _goddamn_ work to see his first-born son for one last time?

 

He seems to sense her frustration because he leaves her in peace, continues to sleep in his office even though it’s giving his back bother.

 

He carries a wariness around her now, which wasn’t there before he left. She knows he’s not alone, she sees a similar look in her sister’s eye when she comes over to visit. She notices them talking when they think she isn’t looking, glancing at her between hushed voices.

 

Alexander tries to broach the subject of a wet nurse again one day when William is proving especially difficult to sooth and it only confirms her belief that they have been conferring about her behind her back

 

“Do you not deem me capable of feeding our child?” She bitterly barks at him.

 

His hand falls to his neck, scratching it awkwardly, “No, my love, of course you are capable, but many mothers get help, especially when their children have lungs like our dear William here has.” He bends down and stokes the child on the cheek, which momently ceases his cries.

 

“I don’t want help.” She firmly tells him.

 

“Okay.” He nods.

 

“And you and Angelica can stop worrying about me. I am doing fine.” She tells him forcefully, hoping that the tremble at the end of the sentence didn’t convey the truth.

 

She hears him let out a long breath, “We just care for you, Betsey.”

 

He leans down, places a kiss on her temple and she leans into his touch. It’s the most physical contact they’ve had for a long time, and _god_ had she missed it. They stay there, not daring to move for a couple of minutes, until William lets out another wail and yanks on his father’s hair.

 

* * *

 

She feels Alexander’s eyes on her more and more as the weeks pass. Notices how he’s spending less time in his office and more time around the house and the children, helping out.

 

She had hoped things would get better, had hoped that she could demonstrate that she was fine, but it was proving more and more difficult as each day went on.

 

She had caught him watching her when she was feeding William, sensing his eyes on her, concern engraved on them. She was sure he must have noticed how she hadn’t looked down at the child, hadn’t cooed or stroked the infant’s cheek like she had with the others.

 

Another time, he had walked in just as she curtly told William to be quiet, his cries only getting louder at the tone of his mother’s voice.

 

“Can I give you a break?” Alexander had asked. That was new too - Alexander asking for permission to console their son.

 

Eliza had startled, not noticing he was there and sighed.

 

“No” she told him, turning away to rock William a little more forcefully “I’m sorry, Mama didn’t mean to be unkind.” She spoke to the child, although it wasn’t in the soft sweet way he was used to hearing her speak. It was more the way she would dismissively speak to an adult she didn’t have patience for but needed to placate.

 

When she turned back around again, Alexander was still watching her.

 

She huffed, “Fine!” walking over to her husband and pushing William into his arms. “Take him, I can’t bare it any longer.”

 

The concern in Alexander’s eyes multiplied. She was usually the one who was the most patient with the children. It had been Alexander who used to snap at them, the sounds of their crying or playing distracting him from important business. Eliza usually scolded _him_ for his curt tone.

 

“Eliza,” he called as she went to make her way out of the room.

 

She turned, looking at him expectantly.

 

“Why don’t you run yourself a bath, have some time to yourself.” He offered.

 

She nodded her head, before quickly turning on her heels and up the stairs.

 

She ran the bath, made it hotter than it needed to be, and let her tears fall.

 

* * *

 

One day, a week or so later, things suddenly come to a head. The endless sleepless night and constant turmoil she had been in over the past few months catching up with her.

 

Her son’s wails had been going strong for a good forty minutes, echoing off the four walls of the bedroom. Little William was just so difficult. The rest of the children had been mostly content as babies, happy as long as they were clean and fed. But William continued to scream bloody murder at all sorts of time of the day and night, no matter what she tried.

 

She would try to comfort him. She would change him, feed him, and take him for a stroll, rocking him in her arms, yet he was inconsolable.

 

But then, so was she.

 

She hadn’t been herself since William was born. The timing of his birth, the Reynolds Pamphlet and Philip getting sick had resulted in her hormones and emotions creating a tornado within her. Everything was mixed up and she struggled to place one feeling from another.

 

There were times when all she could do was sit and cry. Holding her infant close, hoping his wails would drown out hers. Other times she felt completely numb. She would feed him, bath him, rock him in her arms, but she felt no connection to the little lump she held. Which only made it worse when the emotions did come, the anguish of not feeling as one with him as she did with the others crashing down and suffocating her.

 

As William’s cries continue she groans, placing her feet on the floor and willing herself to get up. To feel something other than the excruciating turmoil she is currently experiencing.

 

She needs it to be like the other times. When her children’s cries held onto her heart in the most endearing way, leaving her in awe of the little creature she had created. When she would wake up to find Alexander clucking over the crib, talking nonsense, or at times reading his essays over, looking down to the child as if he/she were the center of the universe. Then he’d looked back at her, his eyes bursting with love and admiration.

 

Now she was only met with guilt or concern in his eyes and she hated it. Every glance or statement that came out of his mouth was etched with either remorse or trepidation.

 

It was as if he didn’t know how to be around her, unsure of setting a foot wrong and causing the world to further crash around her.

 

The tempo of William’s screams increase, his face red and blotchy in distress, as if he can sense that their world is off kilter.

 

She’s sobbing into her hands now too, not knowing when this hysteria started, but each breath feels like she’s inhaling hot ash and, whilst she can feel the tears falling down her face, it is as if she’s disconnected to herself, watching from the side-lines unable to connect with the grief-stricken individual encompassed within her body.

 

She closes her eyes shut tight, tries to center herself by focusing on her breathing, counting up to ten in French, repeating it multiple times until her breathing finally evens out and her sobs subside.

 

It takes some time, but eventually everything is quiet and calm, and she feels she can breathe again. The quiet only sooths her for a few seconds before an uneasy feeling settles into the pit of her stomach.

 

It’s too quiet.

 

It’s only now that she realises the wails of her baby has stopped and she panics. What is wrong with William, why isn’t he crying? Had she left him crying for so long that he had made himself unwell?

 

She looks up, begging for her son to be okay and she’s met with an anxious looking Alexander. He’s rocking their son in his arms, hushing him, whilst his eyes are focused on his wife. She can sense the apprehension in them, the way he’s debating how to justify his appearance in their room. But there’s also distress in them, likely from the state he’s found her in.

 

“Eliza?” his voice quivers and she thinks he almost sounds scared of her, or is he scared for her? She can’t quite tell.

 

She stares up at him, her bloodshot eyes wide and blinking.

 

“Should I send for Angelica? Or, a Doctor maybe?” He queries, seeming at a loss.

 

He shifts on the spot as if he’s fighting between his need to both comfort her and give her space.

 

Eliza keeps her eyes focused on the scene in front of her. The sight of her son in his father’s arms brings a feeling of familiarity and normality to her and she feels a shift within her. She gasps, holding onto the bed sheets next to her, controlling her breaths as she shakes her head.

 

He however, takes her response as disapproval, and moves towards the door with William still in his arms.

 

“How about I take him into the office with me tonight?” he offers.

 

“No!” Eliza’s hand reaches out to grab his as he begins to walk past her.

 

He sighs, defeated, moving to place William in her arms.

 

But she shakes her head at him again, “No.”

 

He frowns, perplexed.

 

“You hold onto him,” she reassures him “but maybe you could stay in here with us tonight?”

 

His eyes widen as he opens his mouth, struggling to form a reply.

 

“You mean…?” he leaves it open, unsure as to whether he was interpreting his wife correctly. He used to be able to decipher her perfectly, but she had been out of sorts recently.

 

She nods, pulling the covers up next to her, “Please?”

 

Her voice is quiet and delicate, her eyes full of fragility and he knows his answer could make or break her.

 

“Of course, my love.” He tells her, sitting down in the space she had made for him.

 

She continues to watch him, unable to take her eyes off the image in front of her. _He’s here_ , she tells herself.

 

“Hush.” Alex whispers to the child in his arms, rocking him gently as he begins to settle.

 

“Hush now.” he repeats, this time his eyes falling onto his wife.

 

She nods, taking in a deep breath, his familiar scent calming her senses. She shifts in the bed until her head rests against his shoulder, and she feels his tense muscles relax beneath her.

 

“Oh Betsey.” He breathes, placing a delicate kiss on top of her head as she closes her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Eliza wakes to find herself alone in bed. She doesn’t think much of it at first, but as she takes in a deep breath and catches his familiar scent on the bed sheets the memories of the previous night come flooding back to her. Rubbing her puffy eyes she finds herself feeling disappointed that he was no longer there, yet knew she shouldn’t be surprised. He had probably got up early and headed back to his office to work.

Stretching out Eliza decides she should probably get up and see to William as he’d surely be needing his morning feed, but as she gets out of bed she realises he is not in his crib and that the sun is higher than expected.

Covering herself with her dressing gown she makes her way to Alexander’s office. He’d probably be struggling to get his work done with the hungry child in tow. But when she opens the door she is surprised to find the room empty.

Hearing the clang of dishes in the distance she turns and head in the direction of the kitchen.

“John, I asked you to place it into the sink carefully, not throw it in!” she hears Alexander scold.

“Sorry!” The boy sing-songs, rushing past his mother as she reaches the doorway. “Hi Mama!” he chirps, not waiting for a reply as he runs upstairs.

Alexander turns around, hearing her name and smiles. “Eliza, hey.”

“Hey.” She replies, watching as he tries to juggle William in one hand and a plate of food in the other. The older children must be either at school or with their tutors she realises, as it appears to be just the two of them left.

“Sit down, I have breakfast.” He tells her, placing the plate down and pulling out a chair.

She obliges, keeping her eyes on him as she takes the seat and he suddenly becomes nervous.

“Is this not okay?” He asks, bouncing William in his arms who has just become aware of his mother’s presence, fussing for her.

“It’s quite adequate.” She tells him, lifting her arms out to take the baby from his arms.

“Are you sure?” He questions, handing the boy to her.

“Mmhmm.” She nods, before looking to her son and adjusting her nightgown so she can allow him to latch onto her.

Alexander grins, he could never bore of watching his children feed from their mother, and for once Eliza was making some sort of eye contact with William as he fed, although part of him worries that might only be so she wouldn’t have to look at him.  
He stands there awkwardly watching her, not knowing if this was allowed or not, but as she kept quiet, so did he.  
Eventually he pulls out the chair opposite her, and she glances up at his movement.

He worries that her face will be reproaching, that she wouldn’t want to be alone with him like this once the sun was up, but instead she’s looking at him like she wants to say something.

He shoots her a soft smile of encouragement and she looks back down to William, stroking his head gently.

“You weren’t there when I woke up.” She says.

He frowns, did she sound disappointed?

“No. The kids were up already and you were sound asleep for once. I didn’t want to wake you.” He explains.

Her eyes meet his again, “So you didn’t go back and sleep in your office?”

He shakes his head, “No, I…” God, maybe he should have gone back to his office, she never said she allowed him to stay the whole night. But she had seemed so relaxed in sleep for once and it felt so good to be in bed next to her again that he couldn’t bare move or leave her.

“…I’m sorry,” he continues, “I stayed in your bed.”

“Our bed.” She corrects him.

“Right, yes, our bed.” He fumbles, rubbing his forehead.

“It’s okay.” She tells him, “I’m glad.”

“You are?” He queries.

She nods, “I slept better than I have in months.”

“Me too.” He agrees.

William finishes his feed and Eliza goes to burp him but Alexander holds his hands out, “I’ll do that, you need to eat too.”

 

* * *

 

Later, when Alexander makes his way into his office for the night he finds his sheets and pillow missing. Walking into the hallway to check whether they were in the wash he finds Eliza standing in the doorway of their bedroom, eyebrows raised as if she’d been expecting him.

“My bedding…?” He leaves the question hanging in the air.

“What about your bedding?” She asks. There’s an impish look on her face as if she’s getting some sort of excitement out of his lack of coherence around her.

“Well, it’s… I guess it’s in the wash…?” He stumbles, squeezing his hands in front of him awkwardly.

“No it’s not.” Eliza tells him.

“Oh…”

Eliza waits, to see whether he can read between the lines, but as his fidgeting worsens, she can’t bear to leave him hanging for much longer.

“Relax.” She holds her hand out gesturing for him to come closer. “You’re sleeping in here tonight.”

He lets out a breath of happiness, taking her hand in his, and she can practically see the anxiety dissipating. Instead a smirk lifts the corner of his lips.

“Just tonight, or indefinitely?” He asks, more confidently.

Eliza rolls her eyes and turns to make her way into their bedroom, “We’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

As the days go on, they fall into a new routine. Every evening Alexander follows Eliza to bed, helping out with William throughout the night. He tends to wake up before Eliza and quickly takes William downstairs before his cries can wake her. Eliza for the first time in ages feels well rested - she didn’t realise how little sleep she had been getting until she felt the glorious affects of a full nights sleep.

The bags under her eyes no longer match her husbands – which also appear to be better. Despite him being up multiple times in the night with William he is getting much more sleep beside his wife that he was ever getting in his office.

Eliza feels some of the pressure subsiding, and begins to feel able to function better due to it.  
There’s still nights where everything gets too overwhelming, when William is struggling to feed and the tears slide down her face because it never used to be as difficult as this.  
But now Alexander is there at night, rubbing circles on her back helping to sooth her, or getting up early after especially hard nights to take William downstairs and tend to the rest of the kids, letter her lay in.

Angelica seems to notice the shift between them, too. She notices her staring at them questioningly one day when she walks in on Eliza feeding William, sat side by side with Alexander who is leaning over and massaging the top of her breast in an attempt to help the milk flow. She raises an eyebrow at them, but bites her tongue, turning out of the room to leave them to it.

She also catches glances between Philip and young Angelica at the dinner table one night. Alexander’s hand had slipped into hers as he sat down at the table next to her. She feels their eyes on her, as if they’re expecting her to snap it back, but she just smiles at them as she squeezes his hand in return.

“What’s all the serious faces for?” Alexander asks, noticing the looks on their faces.

They glace to their mother, as if asking for permission for something.

“All is well.” She reassures them, and young Angelica pouts, because as much as she loves her father she’s very sensitive to her mother and has seen how much she has been struggling, but Eliza winks at her and she seems to cool somewhat, her pout twisting into a small smile.

As she relaxes, Eliza notices the family relaxing around her too. The more smiles she shares with Alexander, the more they share too. She tries to ignore the guilt she feels over not noticing their sensitivity towards her sooner. They were learning to forgive their father as much as she was.

 

* * *

 

A week later, as Eliza is trying to hush a crying William in the parlour, Alex notices the tension growing and offers to help.

“No” she shakes her head confidently, “I’m okay, I need to do this.”

He nods, understanding, and places a kiss on her temple, before sitting down to read a paper.

“Come on William, Mama has fed and changed you, what’s the matter?” Eliza tries to sooth, rocking him in her arms and attempting to stay as calm as possible. She knows the more stressed out she gets, the worse he gets.

Alexander keeps a careful eye on her, ready to step in, in case she becomes too overwhelmed. It had been a difficult night previously, and he knew Eliza was suffering from the lack of sleep today.

Suddenly Angelica strides into the room, reaching her hands out to the baby. “Here, let me take him. I could hear him before I even entered the house!”

“No!” Eliza pulls him away abruptly, causing him to wail louder.

“Eliza!” Angelica sighs, “Let me help.” Managing to take the baby out of her sister’s arms.

“There, there.” She bounces the child, his head resting on her shoulder.

Eliza clenches her fists as tears sting her eyes, she was doing okay, he was crying but she was coping with it.

Alexander notices and stands up, “Angelica…”

“See,” Angelica coos to the child as his crying lessens. “You just needed your Aunt Angelica, didn’t you love?”

Eliza feels her heart painfully contract. Angelica was right; he had wanted her, not his mother. She had been so dismissive of him the past few months that he was easier comforted by his aunt than her. As much as she tried to be better now, the damage was done.

She feels a million different things at once, a hot lava of emotions seeps through her veins and she wants to scream.

Alexander steps towards her, “Eliza, angel…”

The tears spill over her eyelids, rampaging down her face. Overcome, she turns on her heels and runs out of the house.

“Eliza!” Angelica calls out to her, shocked. She looks towards Alexander who is eyeing her angrily.

“What did I do?” She asked.

“She was trying to do it on her own. She’s been trying so hard, she was doing so well.” He slams his paper down onto the table, causing William to let out another small wail.

It dawns on Angelica then and she actually looks guilty, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”

Alexander sighs and tries to soften his features because she looks genuinely distressed and, of course, he knows she would never intentionally do anything to upset her sister.

“I’m going to try and find her. Look after the kids please.”

“Okay.” Angelica gulps. “Tell her I’m sorry.”

Alexander nods, stroking his son’s head as he exits the room.

 

* * *

 

It doesn’t take long before he finds her sat on a fallen tree log deep in the wooded part at the end of their garden. He sighs, relieved, because it’s the first spot he’s searched. It’s a place they would come to when wanting to steal a few quite minutes alone together. And he knows that if she hadn’t wanted him to find her she would have gone somewhere else, so he is hopeful that his presence wont startle her.

A stick snaps under his foot and Eliza turns to him, her face tear stricken.  
“My love,” he begins as he sits down next to her, putting his arm around her and pulling her close.

“Your sister apologises, She didn’t mean to upset you.”

Eliza sniffs, resting her head on his shoulder, “She was right though, he wanted her.”

“That’s not true.” Alexander tells her, rubbing her arms soothingly.

“Yes, it is! He stopped crying the moment she took him. My own son prefers my sister over me and it’s all my fault.” She cries.

Alexander feels his shoulder getting damp with her tears. “No, Eliza. He loves you! Remember yesterday when I was holding him, it wasn’t until I passed him to you that he settled, babies are just like that.”

“That’s because he was hungry, if you had the means to feed him he wouldn’t have even noticed me.” She hiccups.

“Darling, please, you’re getting yourself into a state.”

“I’m just speaking the truth.” She tells him, fruitlessly trying to wipe away the endless tears.

“Look,” Alexander pulls back, looking at her in the eye, “I know things haven’t been easy this time around, and I know I’m partly to blame for that…”

“No.” Eliza tries to say, but he hushes her.

“Let’s not lie. I should have timed things better, put you first.” He winces at his stupidity. He had thought bringing the Pamphlet out after the baby was born would have been good timing, but evidently not.

“I don’t think there ever would have really been a good time for it to come out.” Eliza honestly tells him.

“No.” He agrees. “I just wish I had waited for you to be okay with it.”

“You would have been waiting a long time.” Eliza replies, swiping more tears away.

He looks at her then, a pained expression on his face, “Then I wish you would have told me that. Told me not to do it.”

“I knew it was something you had to do.” She explains.

Alexander frowns, because she was right, she knew him so well. Knew that if she had refused it he would have been tormented by the misinformed gossip, that it would have eaten away at him knowing that he couldn’t clear his name. She had put him and his needs first, as always.

“I don’t deserve you.” His voice cracks.

“No. I don’t suppose you do.” She sighs.

“Our children are so lucky to have you as their Mother.” He tells her, frowning when she shakes her head. “I know things haven’t been easy this time around, but none of that has been your fault, please Eliza, you have to believe me.”

“That might be so, but that doesn’t excuse the way I have been with poor William.” She looks down at her lap shamefully. “I’m scared that he’ll been disadvantaged because of it, that he might grow up resenting me or feeling less loved than the others.”

“My love, this is just a mere few months of his life, he won’t even remember them once he’s older.” He tries to reassure her.

“Maybe.” She sighs, “But what if I can never be good enough for him?”

“You can. You already are, Eliza. I know it’s still difficult for you but you’ve been so strong and you’re trying so hard and I can see how much you love him, that’s all he needs.”

“I do love him.” She confirms, fresh tears spilling down her face.

“I know.”

“There were times when I was scared that I couldn’t.” She croaks.

“Really?” Alexander asks, shocked, “Why?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “It’s hard to explain, I was so out of sorts. Have you ever felt like the world is floating away without you, that you’re running at a different pace than everyone else and you’re not sure if you can fully reach them?”

Alexander laughs, “Nearly every day, my love.”

“Yes, but you’re usually running ahead of everyone, my dear. I felt like I was running behind, like everything was in slow motion and I could never catch up with the rest of you.”

“Do you still feel that way?” He asks.

“At times, but not so much. It helps to have you around.” She genuinely tells him.

“Even if I’m running ahead?” He questions.

“You bring me up to speed.” She tells him and he laughs, because it’s true.

“And you slow me down, we balance each other out.”

“I suppose we do.” Eliza agrees.

They fall into a silence, nothing but the sounds of the birds and their breathing can be heard and they take the moment to be still together. Eventually Eliza’s tears dry and she rubs her salty face.

“We should probably get back.” She whispers.

“Do we have to?” Alexander huffs. “I’m quite enjoying a moments of peace and quiet with you.” He looks at her longingly, begging her to not end the moment.

Eliza smiles, “We should probably relieve Angelica of our little urchins.”

Alex pouts and Eliza finds her eyes fixated on his lips. Leaning towards him, she meets them with hers in a gentle kiss.

Alexander startles a little, it’s been so long since they’ve kissed like this, but everything feels familiar and right and he quickly relaxes into it. Eliza brings her hand to the back of his head, pulling him closer as she relishes the taste of him on her lips again.

A few minutes later she reluctantly pulls back, resting her forehead against his, whist she catches her breath.

They stay like that until they hear rustling of leaves and the sound of little John giggling, followed by a flustered Angelica. “John, I said we could only play hide and seek in…. Oh hi.” She pauses when she notices her sister and brother in law.

“Hi” Eliza replies, pulling back from Alexander and smiling at her sister.

“Is everything okay?” Angelica asks sheepishly. “I apologise if I were overbearing before.”

Eliza nods, understanding.

“Mama and Papa were kissing!” John giggles.

“Oh were they now?” Angelica smirks.

“Yup” He beams, climbing up onto his father’s lap.

“Where’s William?” Eliza asks.

“He’s asleep, Philip and Ang are keeping and eye on him.”

“Okay, good.” Eliza nods.

“Eliza I…” Angelica pauses, looking between her and Alexander.

He takes the hint, hauling John up in his arms as he stands up. “Come on little lamb, let’s head back inside.”

Once they’re out of earshot Angelica sits down next to her sister.

“I really am sorry. I should have been more sensitive.” She admits.

“It’s okay. I probably overreacted.”

“No, Eliza, don’t do that. I am to fault, not you. So please, say you forgive me.”

“I already have.” Eliza tells her honestly.

Angelica sighs as she pulls a piece of Eliza’s hair that had got stuck to her dried tears away from her face. “Tell me, my love, is everything okay?”

Eliza takes in a long breath, releasing it slowly as she catches sight of Alexander hauling John into the house through the trees. She knows it won't happen overnight, but she has already come this far and can feel herself moving forward everyday, catching up with the life she was used to before. The worst of the fog had dispersed and she could see things clearer now.

“I believe it will be.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for all the angst. I had this idea running around my head for the past few days and had to write it down. This was intended to be a one-parter but it ran away with me and so there will be at least one more (probably two) parts to come still. I hope people enjoy :)


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